Bleed Black
by serious.effort
Summary: Slightly insane Harry Potter is freed from Azkaban after the Wizarding world learns of his innocence. What might become of him? Featuring: A Dark, questionably sane, Harry Potter. 1st person POV Rewrite is possible, as it is, ON HOLD
1. Footsteps in the hall

Title: **Bleed Black**  
Author: Exiled Rain  
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. This is merely fanfiction.

-  
Welcome the whole new pain  
and take comfort in what you've become.  
I waved as I passed myself along the way.  
I have arrived so unashamed but my reflection no longer looks the same.  
It seems much dimmer now... it seems so dim.  
Just stumble and fall into a world that's over crowded.  
And you will find me.  
Won't recognize me;  
and I won't recognize myself.  
I've arrived so unashamed,  
but all my senses no longer seem the same.  
I can sense everything.  
My sight's so clear.  
In an instant, my life just slipped away,  
I fought for life, the whole time you were holding me down.  
You watched me dying.  
Holding me down, you brought my rebirth.

"Exsanguination" by AFI

-

**Chapter 1**: Footsteps in the Hall

It seemed so cold then, yet my sense of time was severely distorted but I did know there was a 'then', and the betrayal so deep. Really should it have hurt me so bad? I knew them, I knew they could do this; I knew it was possible, but I was surprised. Is that a fault all humans share? We cannot accept something fully until we are facing the consequences? I cannot help but think that is true, and even now I doubt it! But ultimately I can believe it is the truth, for now that is (doubt is a part of the intelligent mind after all), as evidence as come to life.

Or light, but as there really isn't much light here so I prefer to say 'life'. More realistic. We don't all see the light of day when we discover something...some can see in the dark.

Again, I find myself evading the truth, and I find the saying 'truth hurts' echoing through my mind. The stupid saying has to be true too, at least in this case. Or always, I can't be sure, I have had scarce experience with truth.

A life of lies. Just that truth haunts me! Or is it just an opinion of someone bitter and cold? It is easier to believe that a life is a lie instead of seeking out the individual truths. In any case, it is extremely painful to confronted with it. I had never hated my life more than those moments.

My best friends, mentor, family, everyone who I cared about had betrayed me. Cast me out of their lives and helped replace it with hell.

Why does guilt flow through me at that thought? Is it because they do not know the truth? That they, as do I, want to remain disillusioned from the truth? It is what they believe, no matter how they came upon those beliefs, and I should not fault them for those beliefs.

But dammit! I want to! And the whole thing seems so wrong! Revenge would make it so much easier to take! They should have known better! How could they even accuse me of that crime? Those crimes! Had they even a shred of proof? Am I just that easy to blame? Did they want this?

I could practically feel the tears at my eyes, I would say I could feel them, but years, months, even days in this place will take the mind from the body. Today I am likely classified as insane as I try to conquer my thoughts. Heck maybe I am insane and I do not know it? Does anyone fully understand the word?

I guess that is something humans strive to do all their lives, to understand. I find it hilarious just how blind we are to it!

Today was different however. After who knows how long I was incarcerated here I felt. I could feel!

The pain in my body as harsh coughs shook my thin frame. The betrayal of my body as I felt bile rise into my throat, just the smell and sound alone is enough! The weakness I felt!

Had I truly felt I took this for granted? To touch, to hear, to see, to smell? Less than a minute into my observations I already regretted my freedom. Was this even freedom at all? I felt as if I had betrayed myself.

"How could I have wanted this?" I heard my raspy, tortured voice question aloud, and of course I didn't. I just didn't fully appreciate what Azkaban Island did to a person.

Well it was more like I had forgotten. I had fully appreciated it for at least a year before I was classified as 'insane'. They do check on these things, I know, I witnessed it happening to other prisoners. I wonder if their insanity was like mine was? I hope they realize how lucky they are! In that state of mind I could forget I were here!

Except for the memories. Those haunting memories of Voldemort and deaths, of the betrayals dealt, my relatives and their 'treatment' and everything I find terrifying and horrible.

Even in insanity one cannot escape the dementors but it the effect is lessened somewhat. They cannot feed off the insane; their emotions cannot be projected when the mind is not, in a psychological sense, there. So it is just in passing that I was affected. I mean why would they, the dementors, cause torment when they could not feed or watch what the torment was to do? Not that they could watch, dementors are practically blind, but the guards did/do have a sadistic sense of humor.

I was brought out of my thoughts, the only thing that took me away from the settings, by the sound of footsteps. Instead of feeling happy at the sound and hope gripping my heart as it might once done, I felt dread.

No one who came to me here would want to help me, or even be civil. I was a traitor and a murderer (or worse) in the eyes of everyone who mattered. No, there could not be anything good to come out of this, I was sure. I just hoped it wouldn't be a fate worse than death, the dementor's kiss, coming for me, or I hoped they would pass my barred cell, my cage, without a thought.

Despite my earlier thoughts, hope had taken hold of me, but it was a desperate and different kind of hope. As those footsteps neared my own personal hell, my cell and residence for who knows how long, I felt a desperation I had not felt since I had been brought here.

That desperate hope was shattered and replaced by fear. The footsteps had not passed my cell. Such a fear that gripped me!

A fear that came to life as I looked into the eyes of the one who burned the greatest betrayal and hatred into me. I looked into the periwinkle blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore.

-

May 16, 2006: This chapter has been slightly revised, reformatted and reposted.

Original Author's note: This is the first version of my other story 'To Free, To Torture, and To Kill'. I liked it for some odd reason and i decided to post it. Maybe take it in a different direction like have one Harry kill Voldemort and the other join him? I haven't decided which one will though... let me know what you think!


	2. A Visit in Hell

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. This is merely fanfiction.

-  
Last chapter:  
_  
Despite my earlier thoughts, hope had taken hold of me, but it was a desperate and different kind of hope. As those footsteps neared my own personal hell, my cell and residence for who knows how long, I felt a desperation I had not felt since I had been brought here._

_That desperate hope was shattered and replaced by fear. The footsteps had not passed my cell. Such a fear that gripped me! _

_A fear that came to life as I looked into the eyes of the one who burned the greatest betrayal and hatred into me. I looked into the periwinkle blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore. _

-

**Chapter 2**: A Visit in Hell

I stood in a rush, and back away against the wall with my half-starved body breathing heavily in either panic or exhaustion. I felt fear, the fear of a dying man who hadn't yet resigned himself to death, and I could do nothing but tremble against the cold gritty walls in Azkaban, hoping that the gaze moved elsewhere. I didn't like the judging eyes that man possessed. They reminded me too much about the people outside these walls, and that was something all Azkaban prisoners hoped to forget existed. That way they wouldn't have to live in the knowledge that betrayal (whether for good or bad) even happened.

Dumbledore himself just heaved a sigh of regret and turned to look at the guard, motioning for him to unlock the cell. The guard did nothing for a few minutes but staring in between my panic wracked form and the greatest wizard of the light. It almost looked as if the guard was looking out for my best interests by not allowing the man entrance, but past experience with this particular guard proved that assumption wrong (he was mean...). Perhaps he just didn't trust Dumbledore, who knows what the papers print these days.

Anyway, the door was open and wide; symbolizing a freedom I would never feel again… it was a most effective torture.

"Harry, I must be the first to tell you how sorry I am." The wizened wizard started off about something with 'framed' and 'released', apologies of the masses, I wasn't paying the man much heed. My back was still plastered against the wall, and my eyes were still wide with panic. I was incapable of understanding the situation.

You see after being incarcerated in Azkaban you were quick to loose hope of escape and innocence, lest they be brutally ripped from you by the dementors, advancing your inevitable insanity by months, even years. I wasn't one to give up, thus the reason I lived in the hell I lived in for what I estimated to be a year before slipping into insanity. I didn't give up my hopes at first, and now I realize how very foolish of me it was not to. We can't always be brave.

_They say the island changes you..._ I chuckle at the thought, unknowingly aloud, but I didn't have much sense of detection of these things any longer. What need did I have to hide my emotions when I was locked in a 5 by 5' cell for the rest of my life? Exactly, there isn't a reason to do that. _Back to my original thought..._ I start laughing again at my own joke, if it was even a joke. Of course the island changes you! It practically kills you.

Slowly my mind catches up to me, I can practically feel the wheels turning in my head, and I realize who is in my cell at this moment. It was anger that welled within me instead of panic. The wizard was looking at him in pity, shame, and fear! How dare he? The one who carved me carefully out of soft flesh, just barely out of my mother's womb, was looking at what he wrought in shame? That fool, that utter, complete, fool!

"Now Harry, I know this must be a confusing experience for you, but you must keep your wits." The old man had backed up against the wall and was using placating gestures. Apparently he thought me insane. The words however brought the attention of the human guard upon us, and he looked questioning at Dumbledore with a look that said 'Do you want me to come beat him into a pulp?' Thankfully however, (it was odd to feel thankful towards the man after all this time, especially since I was still unused to feeling at all), the man shook his head in a visible 'no' gesture and the guard turned away with disappointment written on his face.

I really hate that guard.

I finally remember the man might be expecting an answer out of me, so I ask with a simple. "Why are you here?" Which, had I been listening, the man had been carefully explaining for the past 10 minutes. The irritation my question brought wasn't hidden all that well, or maybe the emotion reading thing came with insanity? I certainly wasn't good at it before I was imprisoned here...when was that anyway?

I realized Dumbles had started his explanation again, and I had already missed half of it. I wonder if the man would just leave if he had to repeat it so many times? "...and the whole wizarding world wants you back my boy. We made a terrible mistake three years ago and we wish to help rectify that by helping you recover, and offering a place at Hogwarts as a home for however long you wish it to be so." So that was when he was done with his explanation. It really threw me for a loop. Why would they allow a convicted murderer in a school filled with children? It didn't make sense, of course not many things make sense any more, not that I cared overly much.

Carelessness was fun, but I keep on forgetting what I was thinking about!

"Harry? Harry are you all right?" The voice snapped me out of my thoughts again, which seemed to be drifting far too much for my comfort; apparently reality didn't like me all that much. Suppressing a grin I answer.

"Why would you care? I killed someone. Murderer. I have blood on my hands! It's pretty, but blood _stains_, I can see them everyday. Stains are not welcome, so why do you want me back?" Hm. Well, I started out logical enough. Maybe this is an after effect of actually being insane? Apparently, however, Dumbles didn't know what I knew. He was looking at me oddly with that same hated expression of sympathy.

Did he really expect me to come out of this unharmed? I almost feel like laughing, sadly enough, the word 'almost' threw me into laughter instead. I really don't have a reason as to why either, but really! The word 'almost' is hilarious, I know it. People are just ignorant to the truth.

-  
Edited May 16, 2006

Original notes: Finally! I have been trying to post this for DAYS! stupid fanfiction...It's short (I know, don't you just love hearing that?) But I figured I might as well post something! I was getting behind! (When am I ever ahead?) Thank you to all my reviewers, I seriously didn't expect that great of a response. Does it creep you out when I say I love you all? I don't remember if anyone flamed, but if you did, thanks for the wonderful criticism! I appreciate you! (I always wanted to write a flame, I respect people for being able to actually come and outright state their opinion.) ...no, I _can't_ tell if I am being sarcastic or not.


	3. A World of Pain

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. This is merely fanfiction.

-

Last Chapter: 

_"Why would you care? I killed someone. Murderer. I have blood on my hands! It's pretty, but blood stains, I can see them everyday. Stains are not welcome, so why do you want me back?" Hm. Well, I started out logical enough. Maybe this is a after effect of actually being insane? Apparently, however, Dumbles didn't know what I knew. He was looking at me oddly with that same hated expression of sympathy. _

_Did he really expect me to come out of this unharmed? I almost feel like laughing, sadly enough, the word 'almost' threw me into laughter instead. I really don't have a reason as to why either, but really! The word 'almost' is hilarious, I know it. People are just ignorant to the truth. _

-

**Chapter 3**: A World of Pain

"You have never killed anyone, Harry. We have testimony under Veritserum that proves that you did not." Dumbledore spoke calmly, but an air of defeat hung over his head. He was probably expecting more out of me, as to how, I would come up blank. Yet the words shook me pretty hard. It was the confirmation that I was innocent, that my delusions of actually killing, the blood, were all just that, delusions. It caused that little voice that constantly echoed that word "guilty" to whither and die like the lilies in Aunt Petunia's garden often had.

I suppose I was supposed to be ecstatic. This was what I was waiting for! I should be happy. This was what my mind had been slowly coming to acknowledge before I was resumed control of my body. The only problem was, now that I was sure, and now that everyone else knew, I didn't feel anything. It didn't matter. The only thing that it accomplished was to help separate the truth from the Dementor induced delusions.

Still I suppose that is a good thing.

As I rose off my shaking knees, I could not recall when I fell, I set my fierce glare on the man before me.

Albus Dumbledore, The Headmaster of Hogwarts, and Head of the Order of the Phoenix, and too many other titles I do not care to remember. For those few minutes I let those titles, that name, play over and over in my mind trying to understand what my feelings toward that man were. Sure I was angry, betrayed and close to harming the man who came here to offer me pity and nothing but a home in a place that practically betrayed me, but did I still hold any of the lighter feelings that I had, in the past, come to contribute to the man?

I sincerely doubted it. I had spent the last few years pinning in guilt over what I had done, or what others had done more accurately, and slowly dissolving the ties to all my former friends and acquaintances. I was hardly going to start reconstructing them! I pushed all thoughts aside and decided not to spend any more time here than was necessary. Azkaban was hardly a place for deep thought...well I suppose it is, but not the type of place I would willingly stay in for long.

"When can I leave then?" My voice was cracking under the strain of talking. I suppose it became used to not being used besides the screaming and the force-feeding the Azkaban house elves handed out. (They hardly wanted us to die that quickly!) I was pushing my limit even asking that. Speechless, innocent or not, is never a good combination. The reason eludes me for some reason but I know it is good advice or maybe just a bit of common sense.

"You cannot, at the moment. As we speak there are aurors on the way to escort you to your retrial. Before the trial you are still, in the eyes of the ministry, a murderer and a rapist. Do not expect much sympathy until then, the information of your innocence was not leaked to the press, only the highest of ministry personnel know." As he was speaking I heard my 'escorts' loud footsteps echo down the long winding corridors of Azkaban. I knew then the knot of dread that was slowly forming in my stomach was something I should pay attention to.

A murderer and a rapist going to a retrial was never something good in a Auror's book. I knew, I read the handbook. I'd agree on a normal basis, but as I was innocent, and it was me who they were going to be looking at with hatred and disgust, I was preparing myself for the worst. I was actually glad the old man was there, it kept them from doing anything they would regret later (or rather save me from a world of pain). I briefly held onto the thought that Dumbledore came here for that precise reason, but it quickly faded away into the section of my brain labeled 'trash' (previously known as dreams and hopes) when the man stood and started to leave before the aurors even arrived.

Only my quick wit (briefly) saved me from that once mentioned 'world of pain'. I quickly circle back to that thought and grin inwardly. At least I hadn't lost all of that hard earned self-confidence I gained over the years at Hogwarts. Ignoring the urge to wince at the thought of the school, I quickly asked. "Are they going to use Veritserum?" Dumbledore stopped and couldn't stop the wince of guilt from showing on his face while turning. I couldn't understand why, though.

It only took me a few minutes to remember that they denied my request to prove my innocence at my past trial. Damn ministry. Supposedly, there was so much damning evidence against me that it would be a waste of expensive material. I think they just didn't want to hear the truth. Humans are strange like that, crave to know the truth but at the same time are blind to it. I'd laugh, but I don't find it that humorous in my position, the result of such ignorance.

The old man just nodded his head, and again at the aurors waiting in a respectful, if not surprised fashion at the cell door. Those same faces quickly shifted from the respectful, surprised smiles, to fearful scowls and hatred burning eyes.

Oh yes, I do believe I am screwed. Hopefully the guard doesn't decide to join in, I never liked him much.

-

Edited 5-16-06

Original A/N: Sorry I took a while to get this out. I was feeling inspired, but I couldn't get near the computer. (my excuse, pathetic, but realistic, eh?) Thank you for the wonderful response -Grins- I am glad so many of you got my beta's note, it took me a while. Even I didn't know what Harry was laughing about until I stopped looking for errors. (that happens a lot, you notice an inconsistency in the story, point it out, please? Or mention if you're confused, I'll send you a nice email, lol)

This is the last 'in Azkaban' chapter. I considered making it longer, but I really wanted to end it there. I don't cover much, and I know it is short, but there'll be another update in about a week, so a quicker update is good, yes? Next chapter will cover the retrial and probably some reactions of a sort. Oh and you will finally learn what Harry 'supposably' did. :)


	4. Public Trial

Disclaimer: I do not claim to own Harry Potter, or it's characters.

-

Last Chapter:

_The old man just nodded his head, and again at the aurors waiting in a respectful, if not surprised fashion at the cell door. Those same faces quickly shifted from the respectful, surprised smiles, to fearful scowls and hatred burning eyes. _

_Oh yes, I do believe I am screwed. Hopefully the guard doesn't decide to join in, I never liked him much. _

-

**Chapter 4**: Public Trial

I knew there was a reason to why I hated Albus Dumbledore; there were reasons to hate him even before he first betrayed my trust. It just took the final push of actually betraying me, misguided or not, to make me see those reasons. As I was dragged out of my cell after half an hour of torture, beatings, and degrading comments (and unfortunately, that guard did join in, even gave them 'pointers') I felt a new rush of hatred toward the man.

Really, I was coming to despise the old geezer.

How could he leave a malnourished, ill, innocent Azkaban prisoner with a group of aurors who in the name of justice would act as bad as those they called 'enemy'? It seems like common sense to me, I doubt the man would even apologize for leaving me with them, hell he might believe "I fell down the stairs" if it meant not seeing the world as it is. I have always believed ignorance to be only true crime (not matter how many times I have been in that category myself) and Albus Dumbledore has to be the most blind fool them all.

Sure the man is intelligent and usually knows things before anyone else, but he chooses to ignore human nature, the faults in everyone that chooses the 'light side' and magnifies the crimes of the 'dark side'. Somehow I managed to get myself labeled as the 'dark side' in Albus Dumbledore's mind, and thus, my place in Azkaban was secured until evidence that couldn't be ignored became obvious.

As the Ministry approved portkey was shoved in my shaking hands, my blurry vision of the glaring faces and the dark walls of Azkaban became a spiral of color, and I was soon amidst the gaping and gasping mass that was my retrial.

I hated Dumbledore all the more for making it 'public'. Again.

The courtroom itself was large, with long, elevating benches for what I assumed were for the Wizengamot and toward the back, and circling around the sides were places for the public and press. There were two side entrances, both guarded by aurors. Really it was quite like the one I was charged in, you'd think they would have some sort of variety. Think of the security risks!

Somehow, as I would've doubted it was possible in my state, I was standing. As a result, one of the aurors pushed me down into the hard, stone chair in the center of the courtroom. The chains immediately clasped around my arms (which hurt an awful lot, I'll tell you. Especially on bruised or raw flesh) and the aurors retreated from my position, secure in the knowledge I couldn't escape but unsure about the intelligence of standing too close.

Of course, I could hardly move so the aurors really had nothing to worry about. One would think they would use something less barbaric than chains.

The rest of the officials, people whom I hadn't really a clue as to what their purpose was, started filing into the courtroom. It was obvious when looking at them which ones knew of my innocence and which ones were sure that I was only here to get charged with the 'Kiss'. The ones who knew were shooting me pleading, pitying looks, and the ignorant ones were looking at me with burning eyes of hatred and gloating silently to themselves at my disheveled, bloodied state.

The public was settling down, I couldn't help but observe, and quieted all the more at the sight of Dumbledore entering the courtroom. The man didn't sit in the place I had come to know as the head of the Wizengromt's, he was seated where the minister or judge would usually sit. I couldn't help but wonder if he finally accepted the job.

I couldn't help but hope that he didn't. I had come to like Fudge. Or rather . . . I would have enjoyed being the one to cause him to be thrown out of office or at the very least tortured a little. For all I know he was dead!

I felt my face contort into a probably disturbing smirk at that line of thought, but if the reactions of the crowd at seeing it were anything to go by, I might want to erase its presence if I didn't want a mass mob trying to either kill me or flee in terror. The festivities have hardly begun, after all.

I hope none of them would mind if I found the 'fleeing in terror' option amusing.

Dumbledore started the trial with a mentioning of unnecessary titles and drabble that I chose not to listen to. I decided to examine my injuries instead. They weren't as bad as the last time, really; A bunch of burns and mild, but painful cuts, a couple of broken bones... and a whole lot of bruising. Heh, there is a boot print on my arm! It is a bruised footprint! I didn't know that was possible. If I ever see those Aurors again, I will have to ask them how they did it.

Oh, I suppose I was supposed to be paying attention, wasn't I?

"Mr. Potter? Mr. Potter, what do you have to say?" A gray-haired witch inquired from the right side of Dumbledore. I recognized it as the place the Undersecretary to the Minster usually presided. I noticed her eyes were usually soft when they spoke to me, well compared to the reactions I received everywhere else. So in all actuality, her eyes weren't really friendly.

Then again, I may have been frightened if they were. This kindness thing is too hard to tell apart from 'maliciously sadistic'.

I remembered that I was supposed to respond, but I hadn't a clue as to what the question was. Always a problem. I felt like I was in school again and was asked question from a professor who knew I wasn't paying attention. I was passed caring what the Wizarding world thought of me, so I felt no remorse when I croaked out "What's the question?"

I didn't give a good impression, I noticed. Perhaps goading them into anger was not in my best interests, but I am starting to believe Azkaban unhinged me more than I had previously believed. I had a secure excuse in place if I was ever asked. That, sadly enough, wasn't very likely to happen judging by previous experiences with said people.

The gray-haired witch glared at me but restated her previous words despite my disrespect. "You have been brought here for a retrial petitioned by various ministry workers in light of some new evidence. This court from here on out will disregard any previous rulings against you. How do you plead?"

My mind immediately froze on those words. Strangely enough, I couldn't recall them being asked at my last trial. Actually, I could barely remember that trial besides the resemblance of the room so I decided not to worry about it. It was of inconsequence anyway. For dramatic purposes I raised my head from its floor set gaze and looked into the periwinkle blue eyes of my betrayer and said those two words that should have saved me a fate in Azkaban, "Not guilty."

Unfortunately the effect was lost because the 'Not' before the guilty, came out strangled and incomprehensible and the 'guilty' was strong and clear.

One would think they would spare a glass of water.

-

Edited 5-15-06

Original Notes: -cut becasue they were too long- Gosh I can talk. Basically I gave out a bunch of excuses, computer crashed, some appoligies, and expressed my annoyance with the first person perspective.


	5. Chaos, again

Disclaimer: I do not claim to own Harry Potter, or it's characters.

-

Last Chapter:

_For dramatic purposes I raised my head from its floor set gaze and looked into the periwinkle blue eyes of my betrayer and said those two words that should have saved me a fate in Azkaban, "Not guilty."_

_Unfortunately the effect was lost because the 'Not' before the guilty, came out strangled and incomprehensible and the 'guilty' was strong and clear. _

_One would think they would spare a glass of water._

-

**Chapter 5**: Chaos, again

The court quickly became chaos. I could do little to correct the plead, as I fell in a hacking fit of coughs. The cause may have been from suppressing my amusement, Dumbledore's face was set in a hilarious mixture of shock and disappointment, or I might have actually been sick. I couldn't keep my thoughts focused enough to tell which, however.

Dumbledore, however, quickly recovered his wits and started calling for order. He was a very effective silencer. Although, I still can't get over the fact that these wizards didn't us a gavel. It wouldn't have mattered in my position, but without the presence of one I could hardly even imagine banging one of them into the bench yelling, 'Order, Order in the court!' I was sure it had to have been one of my life goals at one point.

The old wizard was speaking to me again, so I decided to actually listen this time. Despite my drifting thoughts, I really didn't want to go back to Azkaban. "Do you fully understand the consequences of admitting you're guilty?" He looked down that crooked nose from those half-moon glasses with pity and disappointment. I really hated Albus Dumbledore. Oh, no doubt about it. He was probably already convincing himself the 'evidence' they had gathered proving his innocence was a plan to free a 'dark supporter' from prison, and that I, in admitting I was guilty, had learned the error of my ways in prison.

Bastard.

I gathered my strength to speak out. That damn question was rhetorical anyway, so obviously, I answered it. "_Not_ guilty." I coughed again for appearance sake, although I'd have to say, it was a rather convincing cough. "Due to your 'Noble' Auror force, my capability to defend myself has been," Another cough. "Severely diminished. Can I just take Veritserum now? Prove my innocence. Use it to prove what you failed to give me the chance to three years ago."

I wanted to laugh at the reaction my words received. My words received, shocked, angry, and irritated looks from the ministry officials. The press was scrambling to write down my words, and the public was a mixture of all three. It was chaos, again. I felt a large sense of pride at that thought. Actually I felt an immense feeling a pride at my words, who knew I could sound that intelligent! Or sane!

I knew I was sane, but sounding it was another matter.

The Wizengromt heads conferred after they recovered from my 'shocking statement' as I am sure they would later call it, and motioned for the Veritserum to be administered. It was another Auror that approached me, with familiar hatred in his eyes, but he restrained his 'noble acts' better than most of his colleagues and administrated the three drops on my tongue without further harm to me.

Naturally, I panicked when I no longer had control of my limbs. Who wouldn't panic when they just regained that very same control barely hours beforehand? The panic did little to hinder the effects of the truth potion, however.

The first question was spoken as if it was far away, I barely heard it; "Did you kill Dedalus Diggle?" I didn't even have time to comprehend the question before I felt myself answering 'No'. I could vaguely hear shocked gasps and angry yells erupting around me, but it seemed so separate from my position that I couldn't even find the urge to laugh. They didn't matter. "Did you rape Anita Diggle?" I said 'No' again to this answer. In the back in my mind I felt a brief wave of disgust flow through me. An image of a fat, thirty-ish woman with short, fake blond hair had me thinking _'Who the hell would?' _

"What were you doing when the crime occurred?"

"I was preparing to leave the Wizarding world." I felt an immense feeling of 'oops' at that statement, but I am sure I would have laughed out of the irony of it all if I had the ability to do so.

Sometimes it's just too much.

-

Edited 5-16-06

Original notes: -most cut because of length- I'll summarize again; some appoligies (mostly about the incredibly short chapter), expressed doubt in continuing at all, frustration with discovered plotholes and many thank yous to reviewers.

_#Diggle, Dedalus : A member of the Order of the Phoenix in both the first and second wars against Voldemort (OP), this wizard was in the Leaky Cauldron when Hagrid brought Harry in on July 31, 1991. Diggle once bowed to Harry in a shop (PS5), much to Aunt Petunia's horror. He lives in Kent and, according to McGonagall, has never had any sense (PS1).  
_(courtesy of HP Lexicon, and yes, I 'borrowed' it)


	6. Results and Appearances

Disclaimer: I do not claim to own Harry Potter, or it's characters.

-  
Last time:

_"What were you doing when the crime occurred?" _

_"I was preparing to leave the Wizarding world." I felt a immense feeling of 'oops' at that statement, but I am sure I would have laughed out of the irony of it all if I had the ability to do so. _

_Sometimes it's just too much.  
_-

**Chapter 6**: Results and Appearances

So I sat, calmly amused, as half the wizarding population ran about like headless chickens. I know I should have reacted more violently to the trial and the day's events, but I think I was in shock. It was all happening too quickly, coupled with the pain that was just setting in from the beating the aurors subjected me to... it was a wonder I had lasted as long as I had before consciousness rejected me.

I couldn't help but think, on those last few seconds before the enclosing darkness took me, that I would make an excellent picture for the front page of the Prophet. Really, wouldn't the image of me slumped over in that hard stone chair, blood seeping from the cut on my forehead and lip, give the public something to really gossip about. I need something to laugh about, and the guilt on their faces when they see the picture and the title 'HARRY POTTER-INNOCENT?' would definitely be a highlight for years to come.

When I woke from the 'trial incident', (I had a nice mental snicker at that title) I had a minor start at the color white assaulting my eyes. I even believed I was dead for a moment, but only until I noticed the lime green robes of a healer invade the whiteness. I wasn't embarrassed for believing I was dead, it might seem odd to some, but Azkaban only hosted the colors black, grey and even more grey. It was a very grey place. After some odd years as an unwilling prisoner the colors become what you expect to see.

If I expected anything else I'd start considering taking back that 'sane' assessment I gave myself.

The white, however, was not something that would spare and Azkaban prisoner any pain. Not like I would have liked white to be my first sight to see even before I was sentenced to that hell. If I ever see Madam Pomphrey again it would be too soon. Actually, if I ever see anyone I attribute to that accursed school it would be too soon. I'd probably end up throwing some nasty curses at them...

I would need a wand for that though, and my lack of one, well lets just say it threw a large wrench in that plan.

"Mr. Potter? Oh! It is so good to see you awake!" She had a wide, cheerful smile on her face, a Hufflepuff, no doubt. While I mentally smacked myself for thinking about that place, the healer had brought over a tray of potions. She seemed to check the quality of the potion, or maybe searching for poisons before shoving one of the vials in my face. I was actually quite relieved she might be checking for poisons, I knew a lot of poisons, and only a few were painless. Not fun. "Now, drink this healing potion, it will clear up the remainder of those bruises."

I was actually going to do as she asked, really, no questions asked, but I couldn't move my damn arms! To be perfectly honest, I was sick of being restrained. I was certain I was exonerated from my supposed 'crimes' so why was I being restrained? I asked as much. "What was my verdict?" I could tell she was getting frustrated by me not taking the potion, but she answered anyway. I had to give her points for patience, at least.

"You've been cleared of all charges-" She started, but I interrupted her, raspy voice and all.

"So then why am I still being restrained?" I knew I was glaring, hell, I was pissed. I could tell I was going to have a phobia of any sort of binding curse, now. I could just imagine myself now; Fighting in a battle and someone sends a simple binding curse at me and I throw a killing curse back in response. Okay, not really an imaginative response, but I'm trying to be honest, here. No use lying to myself.

The healer was responding now, the comical expression of 'Oh' was releasing its control on her facial features and a 'Finite Incantrum' was sent my way. "Those damn aurors! I told them an unconscious patient has no need to be restrained. Honestly, 'for his own health'!" I tuned her out after that and started taking the potion. I don't know what I regret more about drinking the damn thing, the fact the potion tasted better than the slop that prison fed me, or the purple boot print on my arm fading.

I decided not to dwell on it and pay more attention to the healer who was shoving another potion in my face. I wanted to say something cruel to her, a sign I was bitter as hell for sure, but my throat hurt again. Not to mention the muscles in my face seizing from my lack of use of them. I was really quite lucky I didn't have much of a reason to smile; I don't think I could have gotten my face to work properly.

Maybe this is why released or escaped prisoners don't talk/smile much, but I doubted it.

"Mr. Potter! I won't tell you again. Drink your potion." I drank the potion, if only to hide the scowl I had the thought of this healer being a mix between Snape and McGonagall. It was a frightening thought. Especially mixed with that 'Hufflepuff' bit. "There, now that should help repair some of the damage that place caused. Tomorrow a representative from the ministry and Gringotts will be coming to update you on your status and to run you through a few forms and such."

I was curious about this, thinking 'About what?' Yeah, it was rather obvious what I was thinking. I felt a need to say something though, and I didn't want to sound insane by blurting out whatever came to my mind, it seemed to have bad effects, so I just asked when visitors will be allowed. It was more of a safety concern, I hadn't completely forgot about Voldemort's living status, but that nagging fear that I would be faced with some of my 'friends' was definitely an issue.

It wasn't that I didn't want to see them; it was more that I wanted to see them too much. I knew I was betrayed, and I definitely hated that thought and feeling. My thoughts and emotions were so muddled I'm not even sure if I miss them or just want to see them so I could beat them into a bloody pulp with one of those hospital trays. Hell, I wasn't exactly sure how I was betrayed. I can barely remember anything of that night, or the trial after it. I needed to know. I needed to know pretty quickly too, apparently.

"Oh, visiting hours will open on Thursday." My glare/questioning look was enough for her to clarify. "Well, today's Tuesday, so the day after you speak to the Ministry and Goblin representatives all those people who requested to come see you finally can!" She obviously thought this would comfort me.

She was wrong of course; this did nothing to comfort me. I only had two days to catch up on what I missed while I was imprisoned! Don't get me wrong, I didn't want to know, but I needed to know what I stood against, and what I could get away with. From my trial they know of my intentions of leaving the wizarding world, so I'm sure Dumbledore wouldn't let me leave. The ministry, however, if I go off what I knew of it before Azkaban, they would rather see me fade into the background. Dumbledore taking Fudge's place at my trial was not to be ignored, though, he was obviously in the good graces of the ministry again.

He might even be the minister now, for all I know.

So I resolved to fix this 'minor' lack on knowledge. I asked in a kind voice, or as close as I could come to it, "Could you get me today's Prophet?" It was a start, I figured. The fact it was only the beginning made me even more infuriated when the Healer hesitated. Perhaps she had been given orders to keep all news from my hands, or maybe she didn't want to upset me by giving me an article that was, no doubt, about my own innocence. It didn't matter to me what reasons she had, though, all that mattered was she was decreasing my chances of getting away from my 'friends'. I was very, very angry.

Apparently, my temper precedes me, however. She was very agreeable to fulfilling my request once she saw my aura extending. It normally wouldn't happen, but the magic dampening wards on Azkaban kept a lot of my magic backed up, and emotions have always been an outlet for my magic.

I almost regretted asking for the damn thing when I finally got it, though. They didn't get my best side!

-

Edited 5-16-06

Original Notes: Not extremely happy with this chapter, but I figured I'd probably post it sometime this millenia. Don't ask how many versions I went through to get this, because you might be disappointed... Alright! I hardly looked at it! Geesh, I am stressed in classes, I'm trying to focus on that for once. Thing I'm least happy about? Harry was lacking his dry humor I've come to like so much... (-sigh-) it just wouldn't work! One thing's for sure, I need to come back when I'm all finished with this and revise it, make the chapters flow together better.

Thanks for the reviews (-sniff-) 19 reviews, 1300 hits, for one chapter? I feel so loved! But really, get a life. ;)


	7. Reuniting

Disclaimer: I do not claim to own Harry Potter, or it's characters.

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Last time:

_Apparently, my temper precedes me, however. She was very agreeable to fulfilling my request once she saw my aura extending. It normally wouldn't happen, but the magic dampening wards on Azkaban kept a lot of my magic backed up, and emotions have always been an outlet for my magic._

_I almost regretted asking for the damn thing when I finally got it, though. They didn't get my best side!_

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**Chapter 7**: Reuniting

After reading the Daily Prophet over carefully several times, the next morning, I was reassured in the fact that something hasn't changed. The paper was still full of shit. Of course, I couldn't begrudge them for that wonderful complimentary article they printed for me, but couldn't there be a tiny bit of useful information in it? I suppose I'm exaggerating, I did learn of what the ministry was doing to correct this grievous error in judgment, but they made no mention of Dumbledore or anything that I didn't already know to some extent!

Still, the idea that the ministry was going to pay me five hundred thousand galleons in compensation was very satisfying. Not to mention the aurors who "escorted me" out of my cell seemed like they'd be heading to the very place I was just freed from was a very, very satisfying prospect. Then again, every auror who wasn't feeling "shamed" for their actions against me will be out for my blood, but it isn't a bad trade off, I think. Although, I'm not exactly pleased with the idea that I'm stuck in this accursed hospital until the staff believe I'm fit to leave, I really want to rant about that, but I have more urgent things to worry about.

Today I have to meet with the ministry official and the representative from Gringotts; needless to say, I'm a tad bit apprehensive. 'I hope it's not going to be an auror!' I giggle, it really would suck if it was, but it'd be amusing all the same. Irony is fun.

So I was lazing about in my usual fashion, whatever that was, when the door creaked open. Yes, creaked. It was annoying similar to my old cell door, which, naturally, made me dislike it very much. What came in the door, however, was much more interesting and much more alarming. A familiar face!

..With a smile? I blink.

Okay, while it's a familiar face, I can't exactly remember who it is. Perhaps an old classmate? I'm scowling already. Miss. Familiar-with-no-name was looking a bit more apprehensive at seeing my scowl, I grin. Wow! I never knew what a stress relief it was expressing my emotions constantly. All right, I do, but it seemed like an entirely new experience, so forgive me for being a bit excited.

"Mr. Harry Potter? My name is Hannah Abbot and I'm the representative from the ministry." She had a curiously anxious expression on her face. Did she think I was about to jump up and attack her? I glare. However, I do remember the name…

I think. It's about as familiar as the face is to me, which would make sense if I put any sort of faith in my memory. It took only a few moments of staring at here before something came to me, though. I was rather proud of myself.

Hannah Abbot, a shy Hufflepuff girl. I worked with her once in the Order on a boring information organization assignment. My mind wandered for a moment down dangerous paths before I slammed that door closed again. Okay, for dragging that up I will consider the attacking part! If only I had a wand…!

A wand?

Yes, in front of me, held out by the woman I was so close to hexing a moment before (not that I could, then) was my beautiful holly wand, looking polished and well cared for. Naturally, I doubted it was really mine. "Who's is that?" Judging from her expression, perhaps it really was my wand? She was looking at me with a rather 'Are you completely insane' look. Hardly, what do people take me for?

I huffed and took a closer look, and surprisingly enough, it actually was mine! It had those tiny initials I carved in the bottom of it back in my first year! Of course, this was well before I realized that it wasn't an exactly healthy and great idea, but at least I knew no one else would purposely do so! In glee I snatched up the wand and stared at it in fascination.

I grinned, immediately re-plotting my revenge and escape schemes with the ability to use magic. They were a lot more effective this way! One question regarding the whole situation wouldn't leave my happy thoughts to frolic, though…

The sound of someone clearing their throat drew my attention back to… Hannah, was it? "Mr. Potter, the ministry would like to express it's deepest-" Screw this.

"Why wasn't it snapped?" I interrupted. This demanding attitude was rather fun, I suppressed another grin, if only to get my answer. Doing so was very uncomfortable, however.

Hannah answered promptly, as if expecting such a question. I glared. She didn't even seem effected by my best snap! Taking the fun out everything, she was. Pfft. "The Minister decided to have it sealed away with the knowledge that it was the brother wand of Voldemort's. Even if it seemed to be wielded by someone who was thought at the time to be evil, there was hope that they could use it later against You-Know-Who."

"I know who?" I grinned; I had always wanted to ask that. I never tried because it seemed very counterproductive to my Boy-Who-Lived image, but I didn't exactly care now. It's not like people are _expecting_ me to be sane, I think I'd have more of a problem convincing them I wasn't, and really, I wasn't jumping at the chance to dissuade them!

The former Hufflepuff flushed and glared at me. "You know, You-Know-Who."

I glared back. "No, I don't know who!" I ruined my entertainment early by snickering, but that just made me snicker harder so I figured it made up for it.

Hannah's voice softened, "Harry, I know Azkaban is a terrible place, but you have to start pulling yourself together. You can't-"

Okay, now I was pissed. I can't what? Defeat Voldemort for the rest of the world? Wasn't destroying his body a second time enough? It's not my fault he did some insane Immortality ritual! My glare was less playful this time and more "positively flaming with rage". I hoped at least, it's been a while since I've had a mirror to practice with. And what gives her the right to try to sympathize with me? "_You know _Azkaban is a terrible place? Doesn't everyone? Spend some time there before you try to talk to me about this! I'm sure you'll enjoy it. It tends to change people, you know, wasn't that one of the things you've always tried to do to yourself? Make yourself into a _better person_?"

I was ranting, and my aura was extending again. Not to mention the girl, as that's what she seemed like now with the way she was she was shrinking into herself at my words, was terrified out of her mind. "Don't talk as you know me. None of you do anymore, so tell me your business and leave me be!" Yes, I'm well aware I can be moody at this point. Going all angst-y on people was entertaining, though! I really can't help myself.

At my words she was suddenly wearing the same expression she had when she first entered, anxious, but with a curious smile. Do I need to say I was confused? My expression probably gave that away easily. The girl seemed to ignore it, though, not that I was complaining. "I was sent here on behalf of the ministry to relay your current status. Your previous awards and titles are returned to you when you received your wand," It was a wonderful thing to learn after accepting it. I knew there was a catch. Damn. "And upon release from St. Mungos you are free to do as you wish, although the Minister has requested a meeting with you as soon as possible. That's all I have to say, Mr. Potter, I hope your life as a free man turns out well."

With that, she left the room, I didn't notice for a while, though. I was too lost in thought.

I did hope this meeting would clear a few things up, and while it did, I found even more questions! And the more important ones remain elusive! Is it so hard to tell me who the minister was? Granted, I hadn't asked, but that shouldn't matter! Damn, it was all such a mess… One I really didn't feel like thinking about. I flopped on my oddly comfortably hospital bed and gazed absently at the white ceiling. 'Well, it went better than expected, at least.'

I grinned, and held my wand out above me and admired it. Perhaps this situation isn't all gone to hell? With a laugh, I rolled over so I was facing the door.

If I keep thinking like that, I know I'll be insane.

-

Notes: Late, (very late) I know, but what am I to do? I'm not going to fill a page up with excuses, so I'll just say one thing; Thank you for the feedback. It was your reviews that helped me remember I even wrote this story. ;) The chapter didn't quite make it to the length I wanted, but this writing style is not my preferred type. –annoyed- Right. Just to warn you, I am going to go back and fix the format/revise of previous chapters soon, the first few especially. (Most of it was written on Notepad) And my penname will change to "Exiled Rain" within the day or so. See my profile for reasons.

I hope the chapter was enjoyable, and I will try to post a new chapter within a month.

- Exile


	8. Plots and Motive

Disclaimer: I do not claim to own Harry Potter, or it's characters.

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Last Chapter: Plots and Motive  
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I grinned, and held my wand out above me and admired it. Perhaps this situation isn't all gone to hell? With a laugh, I rolled over so I was facing the door._

_If I keep thinking like that, I know I'll be insane._

-

**Chapter 8**: Plots and Motive

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The meeting with the Gringotts representative was short, but at the same time, required every bit of patience I had. At first the Goblin seemed just like ever other Goblin, short stature, sharp teeth, and a cruel, defensive wit. However, it didn't take long to realize just why this Goblin was chosen to "visit" me. The scheming bastard was that mysterious account manager that had always been "out" while I went to inquire about my accounts.

Needless to say, I wanted to hurt the little creature. Badly.

Of course, I did understand a few things about politics concerning the Goblin race; "No matter how crooked, they control your money, and thus, can make your life a living hell" as was learned by the mess that was Ludo Bagman when the Goblins finally caught up with him. However, now that I finally knew his name I could actually inquire about getting rid of him, so I was already immersed in planning my revenge. Unfortunately… it's hard to concentrate on what is being said when caught up in revenge schemes, but I managed to get the gist of it.

The ministry had confiscated my trust fund, as I learn now it wasn't my main inheritance, and had actually made an extra 500k off of me even with the bloody compensation they gave me. Now, I've never cared much about money, but that made me want to go on a raging rampage into the Ministry of magic, throwing AK's everywhere.

Just imagining it was enough to bring me out of my bad mood!

Unfortunately, my account manager must have picked up on that, or was just annoyed with me ignoring him. With an irritated growl the goblin Frikrip drew my attention to the large golden key held out to me. I assumed it was to the ministry's compensation vault, and the surly goblin confirmed that moments later with a few words spoken through gritted teeth. I glared at the goblin's back as he left. How rude! He didn't even say good-bye!

He was lucky I didn't want to be sent to Azkaban again or he would have been ash on the floor!

With that over, however, I went back to my ponderings. I really didn't have time to sulk, and I needed to keep my revenge plans light until I knew what happened. I hadn't yet found anything that cleared the mess my memory of the events prior to sitting in my cell in Azkaban.

Well, that wasn't true. I remembered my Hogwarts years just fine. It was after my graduation that things became fuzzy. For the most part, I could remember working with the order while doing on and off jobs with the Aurors of the ministry for some extra cash. I could remember my battles against the death eaters, the training I put myself through once I realized no one else was willing to help me survive. I could even recall the numerous failed relationships I had with various people, although the names of the women escaped my mind.

For all I know, forgetting their names was purposely done.

It seemed that the last thing I could recall before everything deteriorated into a mess of scrambled, short images was my defeat of Voldemort. I remember the cheers of various members of the fight against the Dark Lord that allowed the fact that it was finally over to sink in, and joining them. That's where it went blank, just as we apparated away, my memory shattered with nothing but little shards of memory to give me the impression that time passed at all. The revelations during my trial were as much of a surprise to me as anyone, but the lingering effects of the Veritserum were enough suppress my own shock…

Suddenly, I felt infuriated. The pillow I had been coveting since my arrival here was chucked across the room. A bit childish, sure, and not satisfying at all when realizing there was no destruction wrought from the action, but I was too angry to care.

What the hell happened! How am I ever to be free if I don't even know what I was imprisoned for in the first place? Sure, I know what I was charged with, but I know there were people who knew me well. They would have never believed I could have done this without extensive testing with Veritserum. Just what happened after that final battle to lose their trust? What did I do?

Of course, I can't exclude the idea that they could just be traitorous bastards that just used me. Have the _Great Harry Potter_ end all our problems and then cast him aside when they're done. It wouldn't be the first time.

The clatter of footsteps rushing echoing towards my room broke me out of my enraged thoughts. The room was shaking, and the few pieces of glass in the room were cracking. Not good, not good at all. Quickly I suppressed my thoughts about the past, and with it my anger, before I could draw any _more_ unkind attention to myself. Just as the room stopped it's tremulous movement two aurors and various healing staff barged through the closed door (which is strange, I didn't remember closing it after my _account manager_ left) with wands drawn.

"What happened here, Potter?" One of the Aurors demanded from me with hatred lining his voice. I smirked, apparently he wasn't one of those who would feel badly for the way they must have encouraged they're fellows in their "noble" endeavors. Strangely enough, I appreciated the idea I had someone who hated me more than someone who felt sorry for me...

That might just stem from the idea that they are giving me reasons to feel justified in getting revenge, though.

"Nothing, just my temper getting away with me. My account manager was just here, and as you can assume, he didn't go out of his way to ease my mind about some financial details." I inwardly snicker. Oh how I amuse myself.. even though that was just about the truth, it wasn't really! How fun.

I was confused, however, when the intruders tensed up, obviously not believing my explanation. "But the Gringotts Representative left two hours ago!" The healer seemed baffled. So was I.

Two hours? Hm, well this lapse in time keeping ability isn't good for my "get discharged from the hospital" plan.

Apparently, (or perhaps.. thankfully?) my confused expression showed them that I wasn't intentionally lying. They just thought I wasn't "all there", which, again, I suppose I shouldn't bother arguing. The Auror sent a smug glance towards the healer, obviously having argued about my mental stability at some point, and strutted out of the room. Everyone but the healer, who I assume is my appointed one, left after him.

I wasn't the smallest bit saddened at the loss of company.

"Mr. Potter, you'd best get some rest, you will have visitors tomorrow afternoon." And she left, just like that, the bitch.

I really, really, want to hurt something now.

-

Lets just say I spent the entire next morning attempting to escape, and I eventually I just had to accept that I was in no condition to do much of anything. Heh, you should have heard me curse out the healers who intercepted me! Of course, I don't think I'm painting a good public image of myself, but I was just released from Azkaban, I have a pretty good excuse.

So yes, today's the day I receive my first visitors other than the healers and the occasional reporter that was chased out by them… As expected, I wasn't exactly pleased. Everyone else picked up on this too, taken the amount of times I've snuck out of their grasp (but they have a pesky tracking charm on me, so it doesn't do much good). I won't admit it... Well hell, actually I'll yell it out to the world! This is rather fun.

Imagine the fun I could find outside this place? It puts a whole new perspective on life!

"Mr. Potter?" I turned towards the speaker. It was _her_ again, my appointed healer. "I was wondering if you would like to bathe before meeting your visitors?" Bathe? Merlin, how long has it been? I'll be honest; I was feeling very grateful towards her. Cleaning charms are easy to become uncomfortable with, given that they itch like hell when applied. It felt like a layer of my skin was being burned off when they applied it when I first arrived!

"Yeah, a bath sounds good." I mutter with a dazed quality to my voice. I send a curious look at her, wondering for a brief moment what brought this bit of kindness on.. but I decided I didn't give a damn shortly after. My depressing thoughts were more interesting.

Three years. Has it really been three years? I always imagined being sent to Azkaban would feel like a hellish eternity. That days would lengthen into years as I relived my most horrible memories… but it didn't. Nothing seemed to exist beyond the walls of Azkaban, not even time. Sure, the first year was horrible, and all around not enjoyable, but afterwards.. twenty years could have passed and I wouldn't have noticed a thing.

"Mr. Potter! Are you coming or not." I glare at her, but nod my head sharply. Really, I have to wonder about that "bedside manner" of hers…

I got to my feet unsteadily and followed her out the door, making sure to snatch my wand from the bedside table. I was starting to regret all those escape attempts, I was exhausted already, but at least it was entertaining. I'll have to see whatever happened to my pensive when I get out of this place, if it was amusing seeing their dumbfounded faces the first time around, it'd be doubly humorous a second time!

The bathroom wasn't far from my assigned room, which I'd already assumed was placed in some sort of private wing, was far more extravagant than I expected. Not quite prefects bathroom, but clean, large, and therapeutic looking. The healer left me to clean up, leaving another one of those short Hospital robes. It probably sounds strange, but I didn't know what to do. I didn't forget how to turn on the water or anything like that, I suppose it was sort of symbolic, this bath is. I was about to cleanse myself of the taint of Azkaban.

I suddenly found myself cracking up in laughter. "Oh.. where do I get this stuff? Symbolism? Hah." And proceeded to cheerily add an excess amount of scented soap into the water.

After indulging myself a little, I'd try escaping for real.

-

Author's notes: -Looks around sheepishly- I've had this done for.. oh a week or so. Even so, it'd still be late. Couldn't actually get the motive to post it when it was first completed, though. I appoligize, for that, and the fact my chapter lengths have yet to increase -frowns- This chapter really didn't accomplish half of what I wanted it to do, but here it is. I hope you liked it.

- Rain


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